A Hard Old Station: Christmas With the Popical Island Showband

by Popical Island

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about

A Hard Old Station features two songs performed by the Popical Island Showband (21 people, wow!) and recorded by Fiachra McCarthy (pantone247 at gmail dot com), with additional songs written and recorded by Tieranniesaur, Yeh Deadlies, Walpurgis Family and Jonny Fun and the ...Hesitations. All proceeds go to www.camphill.ie and www.canteen.ie. Mastered by Stephen Quinn.

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released December 13, 2010

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about

Popical Island Dublin, Ireland

Bockety POP collective out of Dublin, Ireland.

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Track Name: The Popical Island Showband - The High Line
I'm delivering the news to you: Santa Claus is middle-aged and blue
He shed his red coat and his boots for pyjamas, training shoes
And it was in that state I ventured out, under the influence of a famous stout
To get the holster and the gun from beneath your auntie's bed, but it was gone

Chorus:
Well it's a hard old station, woah-oh
Working the high line way up in the sky
And asking time to stand still
When it's so impatient to move

Imaging Wyatt Earp without a gun, he'd be the damsel in distress, yessum'
The night before the OK Corral he's unarmed and I'm unfit to call him 'pal'

Chorus

Then a light goes on in a Parnell St. huckster shop
All these places cater for cowboys, one set is like the other
It'll do just ot send me to feathers

Chorus
Track Name: The Popical Island Showband - Blotto
Well I’ve been messed up many times by the curse of the affliction
I’ve been messed up many times by the curse of the affliction
Give me your hand here across this kitchen
And if you see me osified
Or see the pilot light extinguished from my eyes,
Ha ha, hey hey, hee hee

I’ve been untangling coloured lights and covering things with shiny paper
I’ve been untangling coloured lights and covering things with shiny paper
Should I hit my head here on this table
And should you find me blottified
Watching television full of mirth and wine
Ha ha, hey hey, hee hee

But what’s this look of judgment, and what’s this cold conjecture?
I came here just to talk to you and maybe raise a glass with you
Not get a pop psychology lecture
I’ve been through summers in the snow and every winter in July
I’ve given every drop of blood for you I’ve shook myself dry
And I ask myself why

So I’ve been reaching for the jug and it’s been emptying its joy in me
I’ve been reaching for the jug and it’s been emptying its joy in me
And time, yes, it’s starting to toy with me
And if you see me falling down
Forming a fading grey snow angel on the ground
Ha ha, hey hey, hee hee